Land of the Living
by Mindy35
Summary: CASKETT. Post-"Always". The morning after. Castle and Beckett have breakfast in bed with a side order of banter.


Title: Land of the Living

Author: mindy35

Rating: T, incidental sexy stuff.

Disclaimer: Not mine, no moolah made. I bow to the genius that is AWM.

Spoilers: Everything thru to s4 finale is fair game.

Pairing: Castle/Beckett.

Summary: Post-"Always". The morning after. The new couple have breakfast in bed with a side order of banter.

A/N: Well, I caved. I wrote "Always"-fic. I wasn't gonna. I didn't think the internet needed another post-"Always" fic. Like any shipper worth her salt, I definitely have my own ideas about what happened immediately after that allusive fade to black but that territory has been covered and covered well. So, I went and wrote fourteen pages of dialogue instead. ENJOY!

-x-x-x-x-

Placing the tray on the bed, Castle leaned down to nuzzle her ear and murmur in a low voice, "Tell me you don't have to work today."

Beckett, who'd been listening through her contented semi-slumber to him whistle as he threw together breakfast, stirred and sat. She smiled at the overloaded tray and the blue and white striped robe he'd laid out for her. "Actually," she replied, voice still scratchy from sleep, "I quit."

"Quit?" Castle smiled a bemused smile and handed her a coffee from the bedside table. "Quit what?"

"The police force. My job." She reached for the robe and slipped it on, tugging the sash tight and flicking her hair out from under the collar. "I am no longer a homicide detective."

Castle straightened, his face falling abruptly while his own robe gaped at the chest. "Wait. You're serious? You…quit? _You_ quit? You _quit_?"

Beckett pursed her lips, blowing on her coffee and peering up at him. "Wow, Castle, seems like you're takin' this harder than I am."

"Only because that job…"

"What?"

"You _love_ that job." He retrieved his own coffee and settled opposite her on the tangled bedding. "It's not just what you do, it's who you are."

"That's the problem," she insisted, eyes lowering. "I need to find out where the badge ends and I begin."

Castle took a large gulp of coffee, one hand immediately flying up to cover his burnt mouth. A moment later, he asked with an injured lisp, "Couldn't you take a simple leave of absence while you locate your badge-less self?"

Folding her legs to one side, Beckett shot him a lazy smile. "What's the matter, Castle, you worried that your inspiration will dry up if I'm no longer chasing down the scum of this city?"

"Hey, you will continue to inspire me, with or without the chasing of scum and the flashing of badges." He leaned across the bed to give her a soft kiss then mused as he sat back again, "Though I gotta admit…I am sad to see the last of those cuffs hanging off your hip."

"Well…" She pushed some wildly curly hair behind her ear before saying with a sly smile, "they weren't the only pair in my possession."

He arched a brow at her. "A subject we'll definitely be returning to."

She arched one right back. "You bet we will, partner."

"But I can't believe…" Castle paused to revisit, relish and digest this last piece of delicious innuendo before continuing with his train of thought. "I can't believe you quit. I can't believe you didn't tell me this last night."

"Last night…was not the time." Beckett cupped her coffee in both hands, gazing at him over the rim. "I didn't want to talk about cases or suspects or anything to do with the precinct. We've both given more than enough time to that place."

"Amen to that."

"Last night was finally time for us to quit talking—"

"And start acting?"

"Start acting. Start living." Her lips curved into a small smile, her eyes fixed on his. "I wanted last night to be about us. Just you and me. Away from…all the rest of it."

"I understand that and last night…was amazing. But Kate…" Castle shifted on the bed, his face creased with consternation, "when I asked you to back down, I didn't mean _quit_. I would never ask you to give up your career or choose between your mom and me, your job and…what we have. That's not what I meant."

"I know, Castle. And I would never want to be with a man who did. That's not why I gave Gates my resignation."

"Then why?"

She gave a slightly bewildered shrug, her gaze drifting away from his. "My heart isn't in it anymore. That's why I couldn't get the jump on that shooter I think, why he nearly killed me. I just don't have the same conviction backing me up. The passion I used to have…is gone."

"And you don't think it might return?" he asked, blue eyes blinking. "I mean, I fall in and out of love with my work six times a day. And that's on a good day."

"I think…" She drew in a deep breath then let it out again, her tone turning reflective, "I think I went into the police force looking for answers. And I got them. They just weren't the answers I expected to find. So I didn't see them when they showed up. I didn't see…" her eyes reconnected with his, "what was right in front of me. I've spent so much of my life focused on death, Castle. Now, I just want a little…"

"A little…?"

"Of this," she insisted, gesturing to the bed and the food and him. "Of life."

Castle was silent a moment. Then, opting to let the topic drop, he drew the tray he'd crammed with cinnamon-sprinkled toast and hastily sliced fruit and freshly-made pancakes closer. He handed her the first of the smiley-face pancakes that for once were not meant to cheer but rather to reflect his elated mood. "So then – what do you plan to do with your newfound freedom?"

"Come on, Castle, you already know the answer to that."

"Run for office? Become the first female President?"

Beckett smiled down at the smiley face before ripping into it with her fingers. "I'm gonna fulfil my lifelong dream of becoming an American Gladiator."

"I'd be cool with that," he shrugged, ploughing into his pancake with equal gusto. "Particularly if you plan on practising your moves on me."

She shook her head. "God, you're a glutton for punishment."

"Only where you're concerned." He waggled his brows at her, a shameless little twinkle in his eye. "I'm developing quite the taste for your moves."

"Are you now?"

"Mmm. And in the meantime…" he ate another large portion of pancake, humming in ravenous appreciation, "you could…mmph…"

She licked her fingers, blinked at him. "I could what?"

Castle swallowed then grinned. "Well, you could always marry me. Be a kept woman, literally _spend_ your days."

"Not my style, Castle."

"The marrying bit or the being kept bit?"

Beckett just gave an enigmatic smile and reached for a few slices of apple.

"You could go back to law school," Castle suggested a moment later, following the last of his pancake with the last of his coffee. "Get your degree. And you wouldn't have to wait tables or take modelling jobs while you did. I could support you. You could move in here, we could share my office. I could help you study the intricacies of…Kramer vs Kramer."

"First of all," she began, her tone sitting somewhere between stern and amused, "that's a movie, not a real case."

"I know that," he replied lightly. "I'm a single dad. And a Meryl Streep fan."

"And second of all," her eyes narrowed at him, "how'd you find out that I modeled?"

"Please." Castle's expression grew comically incredulous. "_You _are my muse." He waved a hand at her before placing it on his bare chest. "You think I don't do _background_ on my own muse? Thorough, exhaustive background…" His voice trailed off, expression going dreamy as he recalled the results of his background research.

Beckett interrupted with a sharp: "Castle."

"Actually," he added, snapping back to the present, "it was one quick Google search and BAM—"

"'Bam' _what_?"

He studied her a moment, eyes dancing and lips curling upwards in a slow Cheshire Cat grin. "I really like the one in the sauna. And that whole series with the pompoms…? Very cute."

Beckett rolled her eyes, casting a glance towards his office. "Please tell me you don't have copies hidden away somewhere. Because that would be truly creepy, Castle."

Castle scoffed a little too emphatically. "No, of course not! No _copies_. How much of a stalker do you think I am?"

"I'm gonna go ahead and assume that's a rhetorical question."

"I didn't _print _them. That would be…- No, I just…_saved _a few of my personal favorites on my computer, that's all. In case I ever need to…refer to them."

"Uh huh."

Unaffected by her obvious displeasure, Castle nabbed a piece of toast from the tray before divulging with barely restrained glee, "They're in a secret file named _Racy Katie_."

Beckett started towards him, her coffee cup landing on the tray with a loud clank.

His hands flew into the air in instant surrender. "_Kidding!_ I'm kidding, I'm only…."

She retreated. But kept her eyes trained on him.

He let out a breath, bit into his toast. "It's called _Buxom Beckett_, if you must know."

"Castle—!" She lunched for him, scrambling across the bed and nearly overturning the breakfast tray.

Castle shrunk back as she advanced, collapsing on the bed like a giant puppy playing dead. "I didn't. It isn't. I wouldn't. I swear."

"I don't believe you for a second," she pinned his wrists, thumped them against the mattress once to emphasize her point, "and _I will_ be searching your computer at the earliest opportunity."

"So the passion for detective work is not entirely lost then," he noted, grunting as he adjusted himself beneath her.

"Or I could just sue your ass for persistent, prolonged harassment," she added, glaring down at him.

"Spoken like a true lawyer-to-be. You know, you really could be anything you wanted to be. Including the whole Gladiator idea." He ran his eyes up her body, straddling his in the oversized robe, then he examined his wrists, caught in her implacable grip. "How about releasing me, counsellor-slash-ex-NYPD-hotshot-slash-presidential-hopeful-slash-warrior-woman?"

"And that was my third of all." Beckett let go of his wrists and sat back on him.

"What was?"

"Why do you want to pay for me to go to law school?" She stole the toast in his hand and bit off a corner. "Why're you so eager to give me money?"

"I…want to give you everything," Castle replied simply. "Money is just one thing I happen to have."

Her face relaxed into a smile, her tone softened. "Well, I don't want your money, Castle. I don't want you to fix my life or solve my problems."

"What _do you_ want?" he asked, sitting up and feeling her settle snugly into his lap.

Beckett fed him the last of the toast, withdrawing her fingers when he bit at their tips. "I think I've been pretty vocal on that subject."

"_Very_ vocal," he mused, beginning to kiss a line up her jaw, towards her ear. "But I like hearing you say it. Or…moan it. Or beg—"

She whacked his shoulder, mid-caress. "Castle."

"But saying it is good," he amended with a compliant chuckle. "Saying it is enough." He drew back, kissing her once and whispering, "_For now_…"

"Well then…" She kissed him a second time, winding both arms round his neck and sucking the stray cinnamon from his lips. "What I want is very simple. I want you near me. At my side and—"

"In your bed?" he asked, hips pulsing beneath her.

"Your bed, my bed, I really couldn't care." Her head lolled back on her neck, her breath becoming shallow. "I just want you. I want you to want me…"

Castle buried his face in her neck, kissing her skin with a hot, open mouth. "Done."

Her eyes closed over in bliss. "I want you to love me."

He switched to the other side, laying a lingering kiss there as well. "And done." When he pulled back there was an irrepressible grin on his face. His hands smoothed over her back, arms, hips as words bubbled to the surface and straight out of his mouth. "I'm not sure I'll ever get used to hearing you say those things. Or being able to touch you. Anywhere I want. I mean, after so long…to be able to just put out my hand," he formed a claw with one hand, "and touch your boob," then clamped it over one breast, head shaking with astonishment, "just like that. And you _want_ me to, you _like_ it."

"Well, not when you do it like that," she muttered with a frown.

"But when I do it like this…?" His eyes climbed up to her face then zeroed in on her lips. He kissed her, slow and languorous, as his hand slid over her breast, caressing slowly, thumb teasing her nipple through the material of his robe.

"Now, _that_…" she sighed, eyes closed as he retreated, "that I like."

"Which is unbelievable to me."

She opened her eyes to find him gazing at her with undisguised wonder. Beckett drew her bottom lip between her teeth, let her head fall to one side. "Even with all the evidence?"

His gaze dropped to her mouth. "What…evidence?"

"_This_ evidence…" Lifting onto her knees, she took his hand from her hip, guided him into the opening of the robe and between her legs. She bit down harder on her lip as his fingers parted her of their own volition, stroking her in a way that made her ache for more. One hand tight round his wrist, the other rose to stroke his face as she told him in a breathy whisper, "I've been wet since you pushed me against that door. The second you started kissing me, touching me…" She moaned and broke off.

"Say it," he insisted, eyes on hers as he searched her slippery folds for the spot that would undo her.

She leaned in, her cheek sliding against his and her lips finding the edge of his ear. "I started melting. I've never been so turned on by anyone in my life. I love the way you kiss me," she placed a kiss on his temple, "how you touch me," and let her hips obey the lazy pace of his hand. "And I can't get enough of kissing you, touching you…"

He hummed low in his throat, the sound sending aroused shivers down her spine. "And when did this sensation start, Ms Beckett?"

She slid a hand down his chest, her mouth trailing close behind. "What…?"

"I wanna know…" Castle withdrew his hand, wiping her wetness on his thigh before completing his sentence, "when you first wanted me."

Beckett cocked her head in confusion then slowly lowered herself back to his lap. "You mean you don't know? You couldn't tell?"

"You hid your inner yearnings very well."

"That's why they're called_ inner yearnings_. I had good reason to keep them private." She slid both hands down his chest then shoved him back on the bed. "Til now, that is."

Castle let his body be overpowered but raised a finger in dissent. "Distraction will not work on me. You should know by now that I am not a man to be so easily side-tracked."

Beckett gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Richard Castle, you are one of the most easily distracted people I have ever met in my life."

"Well—"

"_Ev-er_."

"Be that as it may," he leveled a look at her from his prone position, "this time – I am standing firm."

"Mm…" She slithered backwards until her hips enveloped his. "That's kinda what I was aiming for."

Castle groaned, thudding his head against the mattress in frustration. "I didn't mean like _that_."

"I apologize." She circled her hips over his. Slowly. "I misunderstood."

"No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't."

"You're trying to distract me."

"Something you'd _never_ do."

"Only I refuse to be distracted."

She leaned over, her hair brushing his skin as her hands spread the halves of his robe. "Oh really…?"

"Yes. Really."

"Y'sure about that?"

He watched her lower her mouth to his chest, hissing and writhing as she attacked his nipples with her talented tongue and teeth. "No. I mean, yes. I mean… seriously. _Beckett._ Kate!—" He grabbed her arms, pulled her back from him. "When? I want the truth."

"You want _a date_?" she asked, incredulous.

"Or you can ballpark it," he answered with a shrug.

Beckett sat back again, blowing the hair out of her eyes with an irritated huff. "So lemme get this straight. You want to _talk_ about me wanting you rather than experience me wanting you?"

"Actually, I wanna do both. But let's do the talking thing first." Castle hitched his elbows up under him, peering at her from beneath his brows. "So? Out with it. When did you first experience the overpowering desire to throw me against the nearest flat surface and have your wicked way with me?"

Beckett rolled her eyes and climbed off him, buying herself some time by grabbing a fistful of strawberries from a bowl on the tray. "Well…let's see now. Must have been…I dunno. April 7th...? Yep. Definitely. April the 7th, I'd say."

Castle bolted upright, eyes darting about, wide and eager. "Of this year? Or last year? Or the year before? Wait – when did we meet? When was that book party you crashed with your shiny badge and even shinier eyes?"

"That wasn't the first time we met, Mr I-do-my-research-and-know-everything-about-you."

"What? What are you talking about? When else did we meet?"

Beckett took her time chewing and swallowing before answering him. "At a book signing. Years before that. I waited – I told Will an hour but it was more like two – to get my then favorite book signed by my still favorite mystery writer."

Castle blinked at her, dumbfounded. "I'm sorry…where _was_ this?"

"I don't remember the name. Small place with a red door and great coffee. It was pouring rain—"

"You were all wet…" he interjected, adopting the lit-up look he got when a brilliant theory began to dawn. "Your hair was short and dark and dripping. You were wearing a red coat and had brown gloves in your hand and I remember thinking that you were by far the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen in my life. An opinion that has not changed, by the way."

"That's not…." Beckett shot him a dubious look, shook her head. "You do not remember that."

"I do," he nodded. "I remember because you said something about the storm being ironic. Because of the title of the book."

"_A Calm Before The Storm_," she mused with a slow nod of her own.

Castle's eyes glowed at her. "Do you still have it?"

"Luckily, Ryan had it when my place blew up so yeah," she paused, aware that her eyes were probably glowing right back, "I still have it."

He shifted a little closer on the bed. "What did I write? And please don't pretend you haven't got it memorized."

"You wrote," she took a breath, eyes cutting to one side as she recited, "_To Kate, A woman who knows irony is a woman after this writer's heart. Don't catch cold. Richard Castle_." She popped another berry in her mouth then smiled. "Followed by a smiley-face."

"That was me being flirty."

"I figured."

"What a smartass," he muttered, reaching for and munching on a few apple slices. "And _that_ made you want me?"

Beckett turned to the breakfast tray, surveying its pillaged contents. "Every woman in that bookstore wanted you, Castle."

Castle rose to his knees and came up behind her, kissing her shoulder before peering over it at her. "But I'm not interested in every woman. I'm interested in—"

She turned her head towards him, her tone sharp. "Call me Racy Katie or Buxom Beckett and I am outta this bed faster than you can say twenty-six bestsellers."

"It's twenty-nine bestsellers now." He snaked an arm around her, snagged the last strawberry and lifted it to her lips. "Which, as an avid fan – and my faithful muse with her mysterious modelling past – I suspect you are well aware of."

Beckett ate the offered fruit and leaned back into his body but did not soften her tone. "You know, I really didn't think you could get any cockier. But apparently mind-blowing sex makes you insufferable."

"You can mock and roll your gorgeous green eyes all you wish, my buxom Kate—"

"Ew, Castle. I said—"

"I know what you said. Point is…" he kept his eyes on her as he slowly sank on the bed, reclining on one side, "you wanted me. _On sight_. You all but admitted it."

She eyed him over her shoulder, tone sardonic as she told him, "I wanted you for your _books_, Castle. For your way with words, for your twisted, gruesome mind."

"All of which comes in this…" he nudged his robe open, stroked his chest with his fingertips, "oh-so-tempting package. And you were tempted. Weren't you?"

Beckett struggled to suppress a smile. Then, lying down beside him, she ran her eyes up his body before admitting, the hunger in her voice muted but perceptible, "You looked good."

"Still waiting on a straight answer," he responded, a familiar lilt to his tone.

"Hey!" She whacked his arm with the back of her hand. "That's one of _my_ lines. Using my own interrogation techniques against me_ while we are in bed together_ is so not okay."

"Oh, you mean like when someone is stalling for time and you just give them this steady, silent, cut-the-crap stare…?" Castle propped an elbow on the bed and his face in his hand then fixed her with his best no-nonsense stare.

"Fine," she caved quickly, emitting an involuntary laugh. "I admit it. I…wanted you. Right from the start."

"Knew it."

"Didn't."

"So why didn't you just jump me, then and there? I would have been willing."

"I have no doubt. But I was _with_ someone." She leaned closer to point out: "_As were you_, I suspect."

"Mm. I was." He scrubbed his stubble pensively. "Shame. Coulda saved ourselves a lot of time."

"Well…" Beckett shifted closer on the bed, mirroring his position by propping a cheek in one hand, "why didn't you jump me then? Huh? Right there, amongst the sacks of gourmet coffee and glossy hardbacks?"

"Are you _kidding me_?" Castle all but snorted his skepticism, eyes flashing with both mockery and affection. "_You wouldn't have let me_. That Kate Beckett would've flattened me if I'd given her a sideways look she didn't like. I'd have been leaving in cuffs and charged with assault before my cappuccino had even cooled."

"Hm. Probably true."

"_Definitely_ true. You were not an easy nut to crack, believe me."

"Whereas _you," _she leaned in to give him a kiss, one that ended with a little lip-bite, "were far too easy."

"But aren't you glad you let yourself crack me open?" he asked, humming with pleasure and attempting to prolong the kiss. "Isn't my gooey center just mouth-wateringly scrummy?"

"Nuts don't have gooey centers, Rick."

Castle pulled back. "'Rick'? Really?"

Beckett shrugged. "Just trying it out…Ricky."

He gave an appraising, "Hmm…"

Next, she tried, "Or…Richard?"

Both of them made faces.

"No," he stated immediately.

"Ick," was her comment.

"Reminds me of my mother."

"Mm," she agreed before quirking a brow at him. "How about Dick?"

"Sure. If you think you can keep a straight face."

"Or Racy Richie, maybe?"

"I do not have the same problem with saucy nicknames as you seem to."

"There's a big surprise."

"So—" Castle ran a hand over the rise of her hip, drawing her closer and returning to the topic at hand. "You _wanted_ me immediately, that much is clear. But the big question is…when did you know you loved me?"

The playfulness left her face, her mouth opened but remained momentarily mute. "I…don't recall saying I do," she said eventually, voice soft and faltering.

"But you wouldn't be here if you didn't." Castle met her eyes, his hand caressing her hip in a way that was both sexy and soothing. "You wouldn't sleep with a man you knew was head over heels in love with you unless you returned his feelings. You'd never be so cruel. _That's_ not your style."

A small smile lifted her lips. "No?"

"No. And also…" His hand glided down her thigh, tucking behind her knee and lifting her leg up over his. "I could feel it. In how you kissed me, how you touched me. The way you were with me last night." His hand and eyes journeyed back up her body at the same slow speed, his palm coming to rest on her shoulder-blade while his gaze searched her face. "As, I hope, you could feel…exactly how I feel about you."

She melted into him, her forehead dropping to his chest as his thigh slid between hers. "In every cell of my body. With every kiss and touch and movement. I've never…it's never been like that. For me."

"Nor me. I've had plenty of meaningless sex in my life." He grasped her face in both hands, held her where he could see her. "And that was neither. Was it?"

Her head shook, her eyes held his. "No."

"If I'm not mistaken…that was love."

"You're…not."

"So…" he smiled at her, the twinkle returning to his eyes, "when did _that_ start?"

"Always gotta have the full story, don't you?" she muttered, an affectionate edge to her exasperation.

"Fill in the blanks for me. Tell me." He leaned in to kiss the corner of her mouth. "When did you know? For certain."

Beckett rolled onto her back, releasing a breath and gazing up at the ceiling. "Lying on that grass," she answered after a long silence. "With you holding me, begging me to stay. Feeling my body go cold and the pain rip right through me. Everything narrowed to just one thing." She turned her head, found him with her eyes. "You. There were feelings before that. Ideas. Inclinations. But…that's when I knew. Really, really knew. And I regretted…so many things. I really thought I was going to end there and all I wanted to do was say it back. I tried to move my mouth but nothing came out. The words just wouldn't come, Castle."

Castle reached across, holding her, stroking her arm as he waited for her to continue.

"Then, after I woke up," she ran her hand up his shoulder then down to rest over his heart, "I convinced myself that you would have said anything just to keep my eyes open, to make me keep breathing, keep holding on. You know? I couldn't have held you to it even if I was ready to hear it."

"Which you weren't."

"Which I wasn't," she replied with a rueful nod. "But…bit by bit, as I returned to the land of the living, I started realizing that it was the truth. I knew you meant it. I knew…how much you meant it."

"How?"

She smiled at him, her hand lifting to stroke his jaw. "By how you were with me. Little things. That I'd never seen before. Or had dismissed. The look on your face when I'd show up at a crime scene. How you stood by me during those first few months when I was such a wreck. And the coffees. The endless, endless coffees. Every single day. Always exactly when I needed them, exactly how I liked them. But…" she shook her head, broke eye contact, "by that time, I didn't know how to take it back, make it right. All I could do was…try and catch up to where you were. And hope you'd forgive me for making you wait. Making us both wait."

Castle bobbed his head a few times, then asked, "Is that what you were apologizing for, last night?"

"That. And for not grabbing you and kissing you the second you said it again. I don't know why I didn't. I should've."

"So grabbing me and kissing me last night was some kind of weird delayed reaction?"

"Somethin' like that."

"Well, for the record?"

Her eyes flicked up to his. "Hm?"

"Totally," he leant down to kiss her, "worth the wait."

"Absolutely," she agreed, chasing his mouth for another taste, "Every. Millisecond."

"Let's not get carried away," he commented, a disapproving glint in his eye. "Although, for future reference? Randomly macking on me?"

"Yeah?"

"Definitely an effective way to end an argument."

"I'll keep it in mind." Beckett adjusted her tousled head on the pillow then fixed him with expectant eyes. "So. Castle."

He nudged her nose with his. "Yes, my Racy Beckett?"

Her eyes instantly narrowed. "I'm gonna find those pictures."

"Never."

"If it's the last thing I do."

"I know how to hide stuff. I'm a better squirrel than you've ever seen."

"We'll see about that." She pushed on his shoulder, urging him back onto his side. "Your turn now. Tell me."

Castle tucked a pillow under his cheek, gave a big grin. "Anything."

She faced him, an arm draped over his shoulder, fingers riffling through his hair. "When did you first want me?"

"Would you think me shallow if I said the second we met?"

"The first time or the second time?"

"Both, I guess. But you really had me hooked after that first interrogation—"

"Interrogation? Please. You were acting like a hormonal teen on a first date."

"Hey, in my eyes, you were the hottest thing on two legs. Can you really blame me for taking any opening you gave me?"

"During my murder investigation? Yes. I can. And still do, a little."

"Well, that's true to form."

Beckett gave an impish scowl, interrupting their familiar patter with: "So— you _wanted_ me immediately."

Castle dipped his chin. "From day one."

"But the big question is..." she ran a finger down his jaw, under his lower lip, into the dint in his chin, "when did you know you loved me?"

"When I saw the photo with the pompoms," he answered instantly, solemnly. "You know, the one where you're doing the splits?"

"Augh." She pulled the pillow out from under him and threw it in his face. "Shut up."

Castle lifted the pillow off his face and lay back on it, folding his hands behind his head with a contemplative air. "No. You're right. It was the one in the sauna that really won me over. All that glistening Beckett-skin…"

"You are just—!" She wagged her head at him in speechless irritation then kicked away the sheets.

"Aren't I just?" Castle caught her arm as she was about to leave the bed, halting her instantly.

Beckett sat back on the bed, watching his expression shift from silly to sincere.

"Truth is," he said, examining her as if the answer were written on her skin in hard-to-discern ink, "I've thought about this and…I honestly can't pinpoint it. It was so gradual. It happened before I even knew what it was. And I've never loved anyone the way I love you. So it took more than a little while for me to figure it out..."

"Also rather true to form."

"Hey."

"Kidding."

"I can tell you this though." Castle sat up and scooted close, cupping her face with one large palm. "Yesterday, I would've said I couldn't love you any more than I already did. But I would've been wrong. Because I love you more this morning than I ever thought possible. Because now…" his hand dropped to her shoulder, slowly slipping the material off it as his lips lowered to her exposed skin, "I get to love all of you. Your mouth," he raised his head, kissed her lips, "your body." His hands pulled the sash on his robe free, "The sounds you make when I touch you…" then slipped inside to encircle her warm waist.

She moaned at the touch of his skin on hers, eyes sliding shut as her hands blindly but swiftly freed the tie on his robe. "Keep talking, Castle. I love your voice, I love when you speak to me..."

"What else?" he whispered, cupping her face with both hands, nipping at her lips with his. "Tell me, Kate."

Beckett pulled him down on top of her, legs ensnaring him and hands shoving the robe off his shoulders. "I love you on top of me. Or under me. Or around me. I don't care as long as you're close, as long as you don't stop."

"And what else?" he asked, breath falling hot and fast on her breast. "What else do you love?"

She tugged at his hair, waited until he pulled back and looked at her. Then she lifted her head off the pillow, seizing his lips with hers. "You," she whispered against his mouth. "I just love you."

He blinked down at her. Then smiled. "Yeah?"

She palmed his cheek, smiled back. "Yeah."

Castle pressed a kiss to her lips, another to her jaw and a third to her neck before whispering in her ear a boldly husky: "_Prove it._"

Never one to shirk a challenge, Kate Beckett set about doing exactly that.

_END._


End file.
